


Breathe New Life Into These Bones

by vociferocity



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Carmilla, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bechdel Test Pass, F/F, Girls Kissing, Gothic, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2361869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vociferocity/pseuds/vociferocity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Allison tries to save a friend, meets a dangerous babe, and helps her aunt burn down a house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe New Life Into These Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Probably the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written.

They had been on the road for a companionable five days before disaster struck. 

Allison had long been aware of the rift growing between Mrs and Mr Martin, but had thus far managed to avoid being caught up in their personal family issues. But then their only child – and her closest friend - Lydia had confided in her their recent neglect, and so Allison had had to take steps.

She had been taught all manner of unladylike talents at the knee of her mother; the currently most useful of which being the ability to plant an idea in someone else's mind and have them believe it their own. Allison had wrangled an invitation to tea with the Martins, and in separate conversations had brought up her mother's insistence on mother-daughter time, how sisterly her bond was with Lydia, and a favourite camping location. It had, of course, resulted in an offer of a week-long tour of the countryside with Lydia and her mother. Allison had accepted at once.

The journey had not started spectacularly. Lydia and Mrs Martin had been quiet around each other for the first day; neither sure how to talk to the other, but Allison had made up for it with her own, slightly exaggerated, exuberance. She had gossiped them into submission, until the three were cheerfully vivisecting the local innkeeper's vile lemon tart. 

From then, it had been lovely. At least, until the carriage broke down in the middle of the night, during a rainstorm. On a deserted road miles from even the smallest town.

Mrs Martin had blinked back exhausted tears when the driver had explained that there was no way to fix it where they were, with the tools they had. Lydia had remained inside the tilted carriage, refusing to accept the situation.

 Allison had sighed. To be truthful, she was annoyed. Why wouldn't the driver have brought supplies for this kind of emergency? But there was no use to her anger. In situations like this, she always remembered her mother teaching her how to react to disaster: clinically. Unemotionally.

 So she cast her eyes around for something – _anything_ – that could help them, and her gaze caught on a dim light shining through the trees on a nearby hill.

 “Oh!” she realised with a start. “A house!”

 Mrs Martin and the driver had looked at her with desperate eyes. Lydia deigned to poke her head out of the carriage window.

 “A house?” she asked in a bored voice. “Good. Tell them to send help at once, would you?” she continued, addressing the driver.

 “Oh no,” her mother cut in hastily. “Good Lord, that would never do. We'd be here alone! I'm afraid there's nothing for it,” she said with a tragic sigh. “We must all visit the house.”

 Allison was fine with that. She'd been cooped up in that carriage for days now, she looked forward to a walk. Lydia slowly emerged from the carriage, wearing an expression that said she was resentful that she was being forced into this, but that she was going to excel at it anyway. There were many reasons that Allison loved Lydia, and her reaction to events like this was a few of them.

 Mrs Martin complained the entire walk. She had worn the wrong shoes, and the wrong dress, and wasn't it cold? She was just certain she was about to contract an illness, if only she had brought her wrap with her.

 Allison could see the frustration build on Lydia's face, but there was nothing for it. None of them had brought wraps, so Mrs Martin could hardly borrow someone else's. And they were all wearing the wrong shoes.

 Mere yards from the start of the neatly trimmed grass that marked the edge of the garden, Lydia tripped on the muddy hem of her dress, landing hard with a sickening thump.

 "Lydia!” gasped Allison, although she could barely hear herself over Mrs Martin's terrified scream.

 They were at her side in an instant. Allison gently rolled her over and attempted to diagnose her pale face in the moonlight. She had had rudimentary medical training, but not enough to know anything past Lydia still being alive.

 After what felt like seconds but could have been long minutes, Allison could hear hurried footsteps crunching on gravel, and looked up. The house had been mostly dim, but was now blazing with light, and a handful of dark figures were running toward them.

 Before she could stop her, Mrs Martin stood and waved her arms.

"Help!” she screeched. “We need help!”

The first of the figures reached them. With the light blazing behind them, Allison had to shade her face to even hope to make out features, but she was fairly sure they were a man.

“What's happened?” The voice was deep and rough – attractive, if you were into that kind of thing, Allison thought. “Who are you?”

It was too late for rational questions. Mrs Martin had worked herself up into hysteria. She opened her mouth probably to scream some more, her eyes rolled back, and she fainted into the arms of the driver.

It was down to Allison.

She stood, brushing down her dress, wondering why she bothered. It was undoubtedly beyond saving at this point.

“My name is Allison Argent,” she said, and was sure she wasn't imagining his eyebrows furrowing further. “These are my friends, Lydia Martin and her mother. Our carriage broke down on the road and we are in need of assistance.”

She looked down at Lydia's crumpled form, and shivered. “Rather a lot of assistance, I'm afraid.”

“Is there anyone else at the carriage?” A musical, definitely female voice asked.

Allison looked up. The other people from the house were gathered around the first man. The tallest lady, stepping past the man towards Allison, was probably the one who had spoken, so Allison addressed her after shaking her head.

“No, although our belongings are down there, of course.”

The woman nodded. “This road is hardly used. I doubt any highwaymen or bandits will come this way before morning, although I can send my siblings down for your things before then, if you like.”

“Before morning?”

“Surely you can't go anywhere tonight,” she said, kindly but firmly. “Your friend is injured, and her mother is clearly exhausted. We have plenty of room. Stay the night.”

Allison hesitated. Her mother would be _so_ furious, and yet. It was true, they couldn't go anywhere tonight. The driver would be hard-pressed to fix the carriage in the dark, and Lydia probably required medical attention. Not to mention her mother...

Lydia moaned slightly, on the ground, and that solidified her resolve.

“Alright,” she said. “Thank you ever so much...?”

“Laura,” the woman said, calm smile not reaching her eyes. “Laura Hale. Do come inside, Miss Argent.”

The house was huge and warm and cosily furnished, so unlike the Martin's sparsely fashionable manor, or her own family's dark, quiet house. It felt like a home, like it was inhabited by people who cared deeply for each other and were able to express it, and it was almost enough to bring Allison to tears.

She bit the inside of her cheek and refused to be sad about anything. She knew her parents loved her, in their own way. It was enough.

“Just through here,” Laura directed her. Allison was carrying Lydia; she might have to endure the hospitality of complete strangers, but she didn't want them touching her friend.

Allison carried Lydia through the house into the room Laura had indicated, a homey, yet obviously unused bedroom.

“One of our many guest rooms,” Laura told her, as she placed Lydia on the bed. “This house used to be a bed and breakfast before we moved in.”

Like Allison had even asked.

It was impolite, but Allison had taken an instant dislike to the woman, and her constant chatter wasn't improving matters.

“Right,” she said; an attempt to at least sound like she cared. Laura twinkled at her like she knew exactly how Allison felt and couldn't care less. Allison wasn't sure if that made her like the other woman more, or less. All she knew was that she was exhausted.

“We'll call a doctor in the morning,” Laura promised. “First thing. But now, you should probably get some sleep. It's quite late.”

“I suppose so,” Allison demurred. “I might just stay here with Lydia a while, in case she wakes.”

Laura shrugged. “If that's what you wish. I'll make sure her parents are settled, and -”

“Oh no!” Allison exclaimed. “No, they're not -”

Laura raised an eyebrow and waited.

“The woman is her mother,” she explained. “The man is simply our driver. Nothing more.”

“I see,” Laura said carefully, as though she were taking pains to conceal her reaction. Allison's dislike of the woman ratcheted up another notch. They were doing nothing wrong, and her non-reaction was a clear implication of her opinion that they were.

“I'll send my sister in with some tea,” she said after a moment, and swept out of the room.

Allison spent long minutes fussing over her friend laying prone on the bed, making sure her hair was swept out of the way, that her pillow was adjusted just _so_ , removing her shoes. Every time she glanced at Lydia's pale face she could feel a sharp pain in her chest, it was easier on her heart to keep her eyes down and pretend Lydia had just fallen asleep early during a sleepover. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened, and it was always hilarious the next morning; Lydia's hair looked like a bedraggled bird's nest after too much sleep, and she was always furious with herself for missing whatever fun she imagined Allison was having without her. As if Allison had ever done anything but curl up next to her best friend and go to sleep immediately.

When Allison at last had no more arranging to do, she knelt next to the bed. Folded her arms on the mattress, and pillowed her head on it, eyes locked on Lydia. She sighed.

“You'd better be alright, Miss Martin,” she said quietly. “I'll never forgive you, otherwise.”

“Oh,” came a voice from behind her. “Am I interrupting?”

Allison stood and turned so fast she almost fell over. Standing in front of her was a young woman, probably around the age of Allison and Lydia, with dark eyes and hair. Her skin was the same uncommon pale as Laura's, and she was holding a teapot and two teacups.

“Laura's sister,” Allison deduced.

“Cora Hale,” she replied, with a brief attempt at a curtsy. “Pleased to meet you, although – I suppose not so pleased about the circumstances, considering,” she added, with a glance behind Allison at Lydia on the bed.

Allison nodded.

“So,” Cora continued, brandishing the teapot, a cheerful note in her voice. It didn't sound forced, though surely it must have been. “How about some tea?”

After the tea, which had been delightful, Allison's adrenaline faded into pure exhaustion. She found herself yawning through the final mouthful of tea, and Cora had smiled at her.

“Tired?”

“I suppose,” Allison conceded. “It wouldn't hurt to get some sleep.”

“I'll show you to another guest room.”

As they left, Allison couldn't help glancing back at Lydia, small and alone on the enormous bed. It felt disloyal to leave her, but what else could she do?

She followed Cora through the warm halls of the house, looking at the family photographs littering the walls with glazed, tired eyes.

Suddenly she stopped. Cora turned, confusion clear on her face.

“The room's a little further this way,” she said.

“These photographs,” Allison interrupted. “None of them are of your family.”

For a moment, Cora was silent and blank-faced. Then she laughed, eyes bright and fixed on Allison. “Truthfully, the ones down here are from the family who lived here before us. We have so few of our own, and Laura thought they looked - homey.”

“But-”

“Pay them no mind, Allison. Come along. You look like you're about to fall asleep on the spot.”

She definitely felt that way; like sleep had wrapped its soft, slow arms around her without warning. It was late, and the day had been more than eventful. It was definitely time to rest. She was being rude about the Hales' bizarre interior decorations, when Cora was right. She should pay them no mind.

“Sorry,” she apologised, as they continued down the hall.

“It's fine,” Cora said, opening a door and waving Allison into the dark room. “Just don't mention it to Laura. She's a little sensitive.”

She hadn't struck Allison as sensitive, but then again, she was hardly her sister. Surely there was more to know of Laura than Allison had learned in one evening.

“Alright,” she yawned. “Good night, Cora.”

“Good night.”

Cora shut the door softly, and Allison padded over to the soft bed she knew awaited her. It was smaller than Lydia's, but that suited her fine. She slipped her shoes off and curled under the blankets, reveling in the cool fabric against her flushed skin.

In a moment she was asleep.

Her dreams were scattered and confusing. Full of blood, and fire. High, animal screams. A warm pressure on her chest.

Allison woke feeling like she'd slept for days, her mind drowsy and fogged. For long minutes, she couldn't remember where she was, or why she was there.

It came back to her slowly, as she yawned and pressed her face against the warm pillow. The carriage. Lydia. The strange Hales, and their hospitality. Lydia.

She leaped out of bed, toeing her shoes back on. Her dress was rumpled, and her hair was probably a mess, but it couldn't matter less. Not when there were other things to worry about. Like Lydia.

Allison slipped out of the small room, into the hall. It was still surprisingly warm, and it was quiet. She wandered through the halls, trying to find Lydia's room. She had been dazed and weary the previous evening, and now did not remember the exact route.

She went first one way, and then another, through halls that seemed familiar and halls that didn't, areas of the house that were warm and lived-in, and areas that were cold and barren.

Eventually, she found herself at a great wooden door blocking her way. There were soft voices coming from within. 

Before she could knock, or – unladylike as the habit was, it was one she had cultivated – listen at the door, it opened, and Laura's brother, she assumed, considering how alike they looked, stepped out.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in that same gruff voice from the night before.

“Looking for Lydia,” Allison replied. “I am, perhaps, a little lost.”

“More than a little,” he scowled. “Here, I'll show you the way.”

He shouldered past her and continued back the way she had come. She had no choice but to follow him.

“I didn't catch your name, last night?”

“Derek.”

“It's nice to meet you, Derek.”

There was no reply. As they walked, Allison amused herself with the fancy that Laura had all the charisma that Derek lacked.

“You know,” she said eventually. “It's polite to make small talk with a lady.”

Derek stopped, and it took some fancy footwork to avoid running into him. He turned and glared at her.

“You're an Argent, right?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Then you're no lady.”

And with that cryptic remark, he turned and walked away. Allison was almost too stunned to follow him, but as he turned a corner, she gathered up her skirts and hurried after him. Spectacularly rude or not, she needed to find Lydia, and this house was a veritable labyrinth.

For the rest of the walk, they were both as quiet as the grave.

When they reached Lydia's bedroom, he pushed open the door, and walked away. Allison rolled her eyes, then ducked into the room.

Lydia was still lying on the bed, eyes closed and face pale. She looked the same as she had last night. It wasn't a surprise, but it was still disappointing.

Allison climbed onto the bed beside Lydia, and curled up, spreading one arm over her friend. She leaned her head on Lydia's shoulder, and sighed. Was this all her fault? For suggesting the trip? No, of course not. She had hardly told the carriage to break, or asked Lydia to fall. It was simply a terrible run of luck, nothing more.

She closed her eyes, reluctant to see how much paler Lydia was this morning. For it was true; the girl was more ivory than cream. Her lips were parted, and she was breathing, but that was slight comfort when her skin was cool to the touch.

Just as Allison was about to drift back to sleep, the door creaked open. In an instant, she was wide awake and sitting up, hackles up.

“I assume you are the doctor that's been called?” Allison asked the man entering the room. “You're here rather early. Which village are you from?”

“You may call me Dr Deaton,” he said, ignoring all her questions. “Now, let's have a look at your friend.”

She slipped off the bed and waited quietly next to him as he inspected Lydia.

“Hmm,” he said after a long moment.

“Hmm, what?”

Dr Deaton looked thoughtful. “I would recommend her staying here a few nights,” he said, which didn't answer any of her actual questions.

“What could possibly be wrong with her?” Allison demanded. “Why is she so much worse this morning, when all she did was fall?”

He inspected her face, as though trying to deduce what she already knew.

“She's not well,” was all he said. “Did you stay with her last night?”

“No,” Allison replied, not at all sure what that had to do with anything. “I slept in another of the guest bedrooms.”

“Ah.”

“Should I have stayed?”

The doctor sighed. “Who can say what would have happened.”

Allison shook her head. “Should I have stayed?” she repeated. “Be straight with me.”

“It may have helped,” he admitted. “But then again, things might have become even worse.”

That seemed unlikely to Allison.

He continued to inspect Lydia in silence. Slowly, Allison became aware of a commotion outside.

“Do excuse me a moment,” she told Dr Deaton, already picking her way to the door.

She followed the noise of conversation to the front hall, where Mrs Martin, the carriage driver, and Laura and Derek Hale were gathered. They appeared to be having a lively debate.

“What's going on?” asked Allison.

Mrs Martin and Laura Hale turned towards her. The men continued their discussion.

"Ah, Allison,” Mrs Martin began, a little hazily. “I'm glad to see you. How is Lydia faring this morning?”

Allison bit her lip. “Not well, I'm afraid. Dr Deaton suggested she stay here a few nights, until she wakes.”

Mrs Martin sighed. “Ah well. I'll come to collect her when she's well again.”

Allison stared at her, certain she'd misheard. “What?”

Mrs Martin shook her head. “I'm sorry, Allison. I really must go home. The carriage has been fixed, after all.”

Allison was speechless with rage for a moment.

“Are you _serious_?” she growled, once she'd found her words. “You're _leaving_? When Lydia isn't even _close_ to getting better?!”

Mrs Martin frowned very slightly, like she was confused as to why Allison would be upset with her.

“My dear,” she began.

Laura put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Allison,” she said, eyes burning bright. “Mrs Martin has responsibilities elsewhere.”

Without meaning to, Allison found herself nodding, her anger fading fast. “Responsibilities, of course.”

“She has to leave,” Laura continued. “I'm sure you understand.”

“Of course,” Allison agreed, because she did. It was so clear, when Laura said it, it was a wonder it hadn't occurred to her earlier. “I understand.”

Laura clapped her hands together, and turned back to Mrs Martin. “Then it's settled! You and your driver can leave this morning. Derek will go with you, to make sure you get home alright.”

“Oh...” Mrs Martin began, uncertainly. “I'm not sure we need...”

“Derek will go with you,” Laura repeated strongly. “To make sure you get home alright.”

“To make sure we get home alright,” Mrs Martin repeated. “I'm sure that's best.”

Allison watched blankly as the three gathered coats and left the house. In what felt like moments, only Laura was in front of her.

“And now it's just the five of us,” she said.

Allison blinked. “Five...?”

Laura smiled. “Oh that's right, you haven't met Erica yet, have you? Maybe the two of you can meet for dinner.”

Allison nodded, hopelessly lost. “Alright.” 

There was something tingling in the back of her head; some small, quiet part of her telling her to remember something, but... what it was that she needed to remember was a blank. She cast her mind back to the events of the morning.

After meeting Dr Deaton, Allison had come out of the room to see Mrs Martin leave. If only she'd had a chance to talk to the woman, she was sure she would have been able to change her mind. Lydia needed her here. But Mrs Martin had left without a word, and now Lydia had only Allison.

“Why don't I show you to the library,” Laura said. “We can leave Lydia in the capable hands of the doctor.”

“Okay,” Allison agreed in a daze, still trying to untangle the knots in her mind.

The library did turn out to be lovely; a small room with floor to ceiling shelves absolutely stuffed with books. There was a small coffee table against one wall, under a window, with two comfortable looking armchairs on either side. Laura helped Allison pick out a few books, and left her ensconced in a chair, still not entirely sure what was happening.

She read all day, book after book after book. In the past, Allison had never had much luck marathoning books like this; that was more Lydia's purview. But today she sped through them, paying no attention to the grumble of her stomach or the slow progress of the sun across the sky.

Eventually, there was a small knock at the door, and it opened. Laura's perpetually cheerful face peeked into the room.

“Ah, Allison,” she said. “So here's where you've been hiding!”

Allison blinked up at her. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, and her eyes were gritty. Had she been hiding? She couldn't remember most of the day. The stack of books on the table suggested she'd been here, but she wasn't sure.

“Laura,” she said slowly. “What time is it?”

“Dinnertime, of course!” Laura exclaimed. “Time for you to meet my - cousin, Erica. I think you'll like her.”

“I'm sure I will,” Allison agreed, although for truth she wasn't sure of anything at the moment. She levered herself out of the chair, wincing at her sore muscles. She really must have been there for a while.

Laura ushered her out of the room and down the staircase, through the front hall and into the dining room. Cora and Dr Deaton were already seated around the table, along with a blonde woman with a strong jaw.

“Erica!” Laura pulled her out of the chair and into a hug. “It's so good to see you!”

Erica rolled her eyes. Allison was impressed – she and Lydia only did that in the privacy of their bedrooms, or when nobody could possibly see. 

“You saw me only a few nights ago,” she said, wriggling out of Laura's embrace. “Hardly long enough to start missing me.”

Laura tutted, and brushed Erica's hair out of her face. “I miss you every second you're out of my sight,” she said.

Erica caught Allison's gaze. Her eyes sharpened.

“Who's this tasty little morsel?” she asked, pulling away from Laura's fussing.

Laura turned. “This is Allison Argent,” she said, voice flat and unreadable. “We're looking after her while her friend Lydia recovers.”

“Looking after her,” Erica repeated, surprise clear in her voice. “An _Argent_?”

Lydia stared Erica down. “It's complicated,” she said firmly. “We're looking after her.”

Erica shrugged. “Oh, fine,” she said in an airy tone. “Sure. What's for tea?”

Tea turned out to be a very rare, very delicious roast, with a spectacular amount of roast vegetables, and the reddest gravy Allison had ever seen.

Allison sat between Cora and Erica, and ate slightly more than was seemly. Nobody seemed to notice, although their appetites were surprisingly small for such hale women.

At the end of the meal, Laura and the doctor cleared the dishes, leaving the girls alone.

“This was lovely,” Allison said, standing. “I think I'll go check on Lydia.”

“I'll join you,” Erica said, so firmly that Allison couldn't refuse. Besides, the woman was interesting. As they set off through the house, Allison found herself glad of the company.

“You really ought to sleep,” Cora said. Without Allison even noticing, she'd come up on her left, so that Allison was bracketed by her and Erica. “It's been a long day.”

“I will,” Allison agreed. “Later. I just want to sit up with Lydia for a moment.”

Cora sniffed. “That will do neither you nor her any good,” she said. “You might as well sleep.”

Allison almost gave in, before remembering what the doctor had told her that morning. Staying up with Lydia might have helped. Might it still help tonight?

“Lydia is my best friend,” she insisted. “I really must look after her as much as I can.”

“Fine,” Cora said in a sour voice. “Erica, tell Laura I tried.”

She strode off into the depths of the house, leaving Allison with Erica.

“You don't want me to go to bed?” Allison asked.

Erica laughed, a mischievous sound. “I hardly ever want what the Hales want,” she admitted freely. “And tonight I definitely do not want you to sleep.”

Allison shrugged. “Then we will keep an eye on Lydia together.”

Erica made a thoughtful noise. “You think she needs it?”

“I don't know what I think,” Allison said softly. “Least of all about Lydia.”

“That's the spirit,” Erica agreed. “Knowing is the most boring half of the battle, after all.”

Allison surprised herself with a short laugh. “I don't believe that's how the saying goes.”

“Perhaps it is how it _should_ go,” Erica said, but Allison wasn't sure if she agreed.

Soon enough, they came to Lydia's bedroom. When they went inside, there was a chair next to the bed. Allison couldn't remember if it had been there last time she visited her friend, but she lowered her weary self into it anyway.

After a few quiet minutes, Erica became bored.

“Allison,” Erica said slowly, drawing out the word with a smile in her voice. “Allison.”

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Are you tired?” Allison asked. “You don't have to wait with me, you know.”

“Of course I do,” Erica said. “You're here, after all, and I wish to spend time with you.”

“Why?” 

“You're very much the kind of girl I like to spend time with, if you know what I mean.”

Allison very adamantly did not, although she was aware of heat spreading over her cheeks.

Erica laughed again, this time low and intimate.

“Come on,” she said softly, draping herself over Allison's shoulders. “This is boring. She'll be fine without you.”

“I should still look after her,” Allison said firmly. She kept her eyes fixed on Lydia.

Erica's sharp fingernails drifted through Allison's hair, gently scratching her scalp. Allison's eyes fluttered closed.

“Come on,” Erica repeated, trailing her fingers down Allison's neck, making her shiver. “I think we should go somewhere else. Somewhere...without an audience.”

Allison wanted to say no, but Erica was so bright and sharp. So fascinating. She hesitated, and Erica caught it.

“Your friend would want you to have fun,” she purred. “She'll want you to have some stories when she wakes.”

And wasn't that the truth.

Allison allowed Erica to take her hand, to pull her out of the chair. To lead her from the room, through the labyrinthine halls and to her small bedroom.

Allison closed the door behind them as they entered, and Erica blew out the candle, leaving them in the darkness.

“Now I can't see you,” Allison complained, only somewhat joking.

“Your eyes will adjust,” Erica said, drawing close. She wound her arms around Allison's neck, and leaned in, kissing her softly on the jaw. Slowly kissed a delicate path along it.

Allison moaned softly as Erica's warm mouth reached her own. She wasn't sure where to put her hands, and after a brief fumble ended up with one in Erica's wild hair, and one on her waist. She drew Erica closer, and Erica tangled her arms around Allison's neck.

After what felt like an age of soft kisses, Allison pulled away. Erica pouted, and she laughed.

“Don't be sad,” she said. “I don't want to stop. I just want to relocate to somewhere a little more...comfortable?”

She motioned towards the bed, and Erica's eyes sparkled as she realised what Allison was saying.

“My pleasure, milady,” she smirked, lifting Allison into her arms. Allison shrieked as Erica tossed her on to the bed.

“That's not exactly what I expected!” she laughed, as Erica came towards her. She reached out to Erica and helped her climb onto the bed, then pulled extra hard at the last moment, so Erica overbalanced and tumbled onto Allison, who duly wrapped her arms around Erica.

“Revenge,” she explained cheerfully to the other girl, who laughed in her face.

“If that's your idea of revenge,” she said. “I'm definitely going to have to get you more often.”

She made good on her promise immediately, tickling Allison until she screamed with laughter.

“No, no,” she wailed. “Erica!”

Erica stopped for just a moment, long enough for Allison to grab Erica's hands, hook a leg over Erica's leg, and roll them, ending up on top.

“To be honest,” she said softly after a moment. “This is fun, but it isn't why I came here with you.”

Erica smirked up at her; a silent challenge. 

Allison considered her for a moment, then lowered Erica's hands to the bed, caged them with her own. She was pressed against Erica from wrist to ankle, but it wasn't enough. That first kiss had awoken something inside her, and now she craved Erica's touch. Past kissing, however, she had no real idea what to do with another woman, and the few thoughts she did have made her blush.

“Allison,” Erica sighed, as Allison kissed her neck, the only move available to her. “Oh, Allison.”

They kissed for what seemed like hours, curled around each other. Allison dared, at one point, to slide her hand into the gap between skirt and bodice, and Erica's gasp when she touched bare skin emboldened her further, to stroke the expanse of cool skin she couldn't see.

Erica attempted to unlace her bodice, but Allison pushed her away, blushing.

“Maybe later?” she asked, hoping Erica would understand.

“We can go slow,” Erica agreed, moving her hands to the safer territory of Allison's shoulders and stroking them gently. “But I do hope that later comes tonight.”

It did. And much later, Allison allowed herself to drift to sleep in Erica's arms.

This time around, she dreamed of flowers. A grassy field, a gentle breeze, and a peaceful melody winding its way around her. For the first time in two days, she felt at peace.

In the morning, Erica was still in her bed, legs tangled with her own. Allison felt she should check on Lydia, but when she moved she woke Erica, who convinced her to stay in bed a while longer. And then longer still, until it was past lunch and the sounds Allison's stomach made had them in hysterics.

 

The days passed like this:

After an awkward dinner with the Hales, Allison would try to spend the evening with Lydia. Erica would intercede, allowing Allison to map the planes and curves of her body with her hands and her mouth.

In the morning, Lydia would be more still than ever. Her colour went from pale to paler to almost blue. Her temperature dropped until her hands were like tiny blocks of ice. Allison would try to care for her, sometimes the doctor would be there, although he never had anything useful to say, and then Laura would come in, and -

From there, Allison would have no memory of the day until evening rolled around again.

As the days went on, Allison became sure that somehow Laura was doing something to her. A more terrifying realisation: that she was doing something to Lydia. And Allison was letting her. Was letting herself be put to one side, while something more important was happening elsewhere.

And one morning, Allison had absolutely had enough.

When she awoke, she didn't lie there in a daze like she had for the past – few days? Week? She could no longer remember how long they had stayed here. She slipped past Erica and out of bed, and toed on her shoes.

Then she looked down at herself. She didn't recognise the silk nightgown she wore, and it was hardly an appropriate garment for snooping. Allison opened the small wardrobe, finding all manner of fancy dresses. And there in the back was her old dress, still rumpled, still a little torn and stained around the hem.

Allison put it on, anyway. One way or another, she would be leaving in it today. With Lydia by her side.

She slipped out of the room, headed down the corridors. After days of treading the same path, she remembered the way to Lydia's sickroom, and she followed it confidently.

But at one crossing of halls, she paused.

On her first morning here, she suddenly remembered, she had turned right, not gone straight through. And it had led to Derek Hale, the scowling enigma who hated her. Who still hadn't returned. Allison considered and discarded possibilities and plans for a long moment, then turned right.

At the end of the halls, just as she remembered, was the door. She wanted to know what was behind that sturdy door, and Allison Argent always got what she wanted.

Allison crept towards it, flattening herself against the wall and leaning in. She couldn't hear anything, and she stayed there for long, silent moments before deciding the room behind the door must be empty.

It was also unlocked.

Thanking her lucky stars, she carefully swung open the door.

The room was stark and cold; bereft of the homey knickknacks that drowned the rest of the house. The walls were bare stone, and the overhead light was off. The air was damp and thick. In the center of the room were two stone boxes.

Allison padded further into the room, intent on examining those boxes. Something about them made her brain work overtime, like she'd seen something similar years ago – something dangerous and seductive and very, very _old –_

“Allison,” came a voice behind her. Allison spun to see Laura in front of her, perpetually pleasant expression turned stern. “Snooping is impolite,” she said. “I know your parents taught you better than that.”

They hadn't, actually. Allison's mother had been insistent that Allison snoop as frequently as possible. But she said nothing.

“If Derek were here,” she continued. “I'm sure he'd have a lot to say -”

“Derek,” Allison interrupted. “Why doesn't he like me?”

Laura shrugged. “I'm sure I don't know, dear.”

It was an obvious lie, and it just made Allison mad. “He said that I wasn't a lady because I was an Argent. What does that mean?”

“Perhaps you should ask your parents. Or Derek himself, when he returns.”

It was clear that she wasn't going to get any answers from the woman. Allison made to leave, then heard an echoing noise that could only be a loud knock on the front door.

Laura grinned, flashing her teeth. “Ah, here is he is now.”

They hurried through the halls, to the foyer. The front door was wide open, and instead of the man they both expected to see, a woman stood in the room, inspecting the photographs on the wall.

The photographs... Something tugged at Allison's memory, but she put it out of her mind. Doubtless it was unimportant.

Especially now, when she knew exactly who had arrived.

“Kate!” she shrieked, leaping at the woman. Kate turned at the last moment and flung out her arms, catching Allison with ease. She spun her around, until Allison was weak with giggles, then set her down gently.

“Allison,” she said warmly. “Dearest! I'm so glad to see you in such good spirits!”

Which brought Allison straight back to earth.

“Kate,” she said slowly. “Not that it isn't lovely to see you, of course, but why are you here?”

“Yes, Kate,” repeated Laura, in a slightly strangled voice. “Why _are_ you here?”

Allison turned. Laura looked a little wild about the eyes.

“You know my aunt?” she asked.

“Of course she knows me,” Kate replied. “Everyone knows the fabulous Kate Argent!”

“Right,” Allison agreed slowly. It was true that Kate seemed acquainted with a great many people. But hadn't Laura just implied she had no knowledge of the Argent family?

“You didn't answer me,” Laura snapped. “Why are you _here_?”

“And why _now_?” Kate anticipated. “Well, of course, I heard from a certain mutual acquaintance of ours that you were hosting my lovely niece and her delightful little friend.”

“Lydia,” Allison said. “She's been ill.”

“Ill,” Kate repeated, staring hard at Laura. “Right. Let me guess... she's been cold and pale and asleep?”

Allison looked between Laura and Kate; the only two women in the room who seemed to know what was going on. Laura was paler than usual, mouth pulled into a taught, thin line. Kate was all teeth and flushed cheeks. Triumphant.

“Aren't you going to invite me in?” she asked at last.

Laura barked a laugh. “Are you joking, or just mad?” she asked. “Why earth on would I?”

“Surely you don't want to be a bad hostess,” Kate said cheerfully. “What kind of example would that set for Cora? Not to mention the impression you'd give poor Allison.”

Laura looked furious. “If Derek were here,” she snapped, “You wouldn't have walked through the front door.”

“I know,” Kate said. “But he's not here, is he.” It wasn't a question.

Laura's gaze sharpened. “If you've done anything to him -” she started.

Kate laughed. “If I _have_ , there's no way you can prove it. Too bad, little girl. It's just you and me.”

Laura looked trapped.

“Here I am. Offer me your _hospitality_ , Laura Hale.”

Laura half-turned, as though she were expecting – or _hoping –_ someone older, or more in charge, would be there at her shoulder. But Erica was still in Allison's bed, and Cora was elsewhere. Derek was missing. Laura was alone.

“Fine,” she spat out at last. “You wretch. Enter my home and be _grateful_.”

Kate laughed. “Oh, I'm grateful all right. Grateful you haven't harmed my sweet niece.”

Laura glanced at Allison in surprise. “Allison? Why would I hurt her y-” she broke off abruptly. “Why would I hurt her?”

Allison was sure the word Laura had almost said was _yet_ . She shivered. She'd worked out that the Hales were mysterious. She hadn't been certain, until this moment, that they were _dangerous_.

Kate's eyes narrowed. “So Lydia is still well, then?”

“Well enough,” Laura sighed. She sounded almost sad, which pissed Allison right off.

“Well?” she asked loudly. “ _Well_ ? Is that your poor attempt at a _joke_ , Laura? Lydia is far from well. Today her lips were _blue_.”

Laura opened her mouth, but Allison refused to let the woman speak. Her words were dangerous, she'd learned that much.

“Tell me, Laura,” she continued sharply. “What illness does a girl contract from _falling_ _down_ that has such symptoms as these”

“I'm sure I'm no doctor,” Laura cut in hurriedly, with an ingratiating smile. It made Allison want to smack her.

“You're sure of an awful lot of things, aren't you,” she said instead, her tone making it clear what she thought of Laura's sureness.

“Kate,” she said, turning deliberately away from Laura. “Let me show you around, since Laura has so _graciously_ allowed you to stay.”

When she and Kate swept past Laura, there was a clear scowl on her face. If anything, it made Allison like her. Just a little.

Allison took Kate to Lydia's sickroom, first of all. Her aunt inspected the room, and then the girl, with a keen eye that spoke of her familiarity with the situation.

“This has happened before,” Allison said. It was obvious to her, now.

“Laura and her kind are predators,” was Kate's reply. “She preys on the weak. The vulnerable.”

“I'm not _weak_ ,” Allison said in horror. _Weak_. Perish the thought.

“Perish the thought!” echoed Kate. “No, no. _Lydia_ is weak. For all you love her, she is a gentlewoman. She is fragile. And your love for her makes you vulnerable.”

It was a painful truth for Allison to swallow. She had been raised to believe herself never weak. Always the strongest in the room, even if it had to be a secret strength. She had never before realised how love could make her weak.

“You said her _kind_ ,” Allison recalled. “Did you mean the Hales?”

Kate laughed. “No,” she said. “The Hales are but one family. A large family, or at least they used to be.” she said it with a kind of sick satisfaction, and Allison got the impression that Kate had had something to do with their dwindling numbers. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

“So what did you mean?”

Kate looked torn. “Would that I were in charge,” she said. “You would have known everything long ago. But I am a soldier, and I have sworn oaths -”

“Oaths?” sputtered Allison. “To, to what? To keep me in the dark? About my own _family_?”

Kate sighed. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I am.”

“Surely,” Allison protested. “Surely these are mitigating circumstances. You said these people are predators. How do my parents expect me to protect myself if I do not even know who I am _fighting_?”

“You assume your parents are in charge,” Kate noted.

Allison scoffed. “Tell me that they are not,” she said. “And I will not believe you. Kate. Tell me.”

Kate put her arms around Allison. Perhaps it was meant to be comforting. “It will be hard to believe, at first,” she said. “But please accept it. The Hales are vicious creatures from legend – they are vampires.”

Allison stared up at her. “But – but they walk in the day,” was all she could think to say.

“Legends are never quite true,” Kate said. “You know this as well as I.”

“Can they really be killed by garlic?”

“They merely dislike it. Running water will stop them, for a time. But cold steel through the heart will stop them forever.”

“The stone boxes I saw,” Allison realised. “They were -” she shuddered violently. “Oh, God,” she said, as something more horrifying occurred to her. “ _Lydia_!”

She strove to break free from Kate, but her aunt held fast.

“Yes, dearest,” Kate said softly. “They have been feeding from her. I believe they wish to turn her into one of their own.”

Without her approval, tears began to flow.

“No,” she chanted. “No, no, no. _No_. No. Oh, God. How could I be so _blind_?”

Kate hushed her, stroking her hair. “You didn't know,” she said. “You didn't know.”

Allison fell to her knees, and Kate fell with her. Held her until she could sob no longer. Until she could come to terms with the fact that she had allowed monsters to prey on her best friend.

When Allison was done crying, her face was pale and set, and her heart was as stone. “We'll kill them,” she said. “We'll kill them all.”

Kate laughed. “That's my girl.”

“Laura will be undoubtedly now be expecting an attack,” Allison continues. “We should wait until we can surprise the beasts.”

Kate shrugged. “We could wait,” she agreed. “But the Hales will never let their guards down, not with me here. We should attack now, before they can organise a defensive strike.”

Allison nodded. “What do I do?”

“Earlier you said something about stone boxes – coffins.” Kate fixed her with a steel gaze. “Can you show me?”

She could. And she did, leading Kate through the endless tangle of halls to the huge door that guarded, Allison now knew, the Hales' deepest secret. As before, it was unlocked.

Laura was inside, with Cora. Cora looked like she had been crying, red-rimmed eyes standing out in her deathly pale face.

“You killed my brother!” she accused Kate.

Kate laughed. “Prove it, you little monster.”

“The only monster here is _you_ ,” Cora hissed. “We were living in peace before you came here!”

“If you can call it _living_ ,” Kate quipped.

“Besides,” Allison interrupted, almost shaking with anger. “ _You_ were the ones who attacked Lydia!”

Laura gave an elegant shrug. “Lydia was vulnerable when she was human,” she said. “Now she'll be immortal. She'll be strong forever. You should really be _thanking_ us.”

Allison laughed humourlessly. “She won't become a monster. You weren't finished turning her into a monster, and now you'll never get the chance!”

“Oh,” said a terrifyingly familiar voice from behind them. “I don't know about all that.”

Allison turned to see her worst nightmare. Lydia stood in front of her, eyes dark and burning in her ice-white face. Behind her was Erica, with an impatient expression.

“Yes, Allison,” Lydia said, mouth plush and red and full of knife-sharp teeth. “I'm awake at last. No thanks to _you_ , of course. How _awful_ you must feel, that these monsters could do what you could not.”

Allison could feel tears forming in her eyes. “You're not Lydia,” she whispered. “Lydia would _never_ -”

“And yet here I am,” she said triumphantly. “Maybe I'm not _exactly_ Lydia any longer, but I'm close enough, aren't I?”

Erica cleared her throat loudly. “Lydia's awake,” she said. “So I'm done here. Laura, you and Kate can duke it out to first blood, or whatever your plan is, but _I_ am leaving. And I'm taking my reward with me.”

Allison was baffled. “Reward?”

Erica turned her attention to Allison. “Laura wanted to kill you,” she explained patiently. “I convinced her there was another way.”

Cora scoffed. “Convinced is certainly _one_ way of putting it,” she said, a little sourly.

Erica looked injured. Allison was slowly understanding the conversation, and was not at all pleased at her deductions.

“You're saying,” she said to Erica, “your reward is _me_?” She meant it to sound amused, a little disbelieving. It ended up sounding a little terrified. It wasn't that she didn't like Erica, but she definitely didn't want to become her snack.

“Of course,” Erica smirked at her. “Didn't we have fun together?”

“Fun or no fun,” Kate cut in. “That doesn't change the fact that _my niece_ is going to be _no_ vampire's snack.”

“As if I'd be so wasteful as to _eat_ such a tasty human,” Erica sniffed. “Frankly, I'm offended.”

“Look,” Allison said with a shaky, forced laugh. “Kate is right. We may have enjoyed each other's, um, _company_ , but I'm sorry, Erica, I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“That's my girl,” Kate and Lydia said together, in tones that were worlds apart. Allison flinched.

“Lydia,” she said softly. “Please.”

Lydia laughed.

“Allison,” she said, mocking Allison's tone. “Let's walk and talk.”

She turned and left the room, disappearing down the hall at a rapid pace.

Allison looked between her and Kate for a moment. She couldn't leave her aunt to deal with three vampires, but at the same time, if the monster inside her friend was willing to talk to her, then maybe she could get through to the girl she'd failed to save. Maybe she could _help_ her. She couldn't abandon her, not again.

She met Kate's eyes, silently pleading. Kate nodded once, and Allison fled after Lydia. She'd already turned a corner and vanished, but it wasn't long until Allison caught up.

They drifted aimlessly through the halls for long minutes, entirely silent. Allison choked back hopeless tears, and thought about what she could possibly say to the monster beside her.

“Lydia,” she said at last, stopping. “I am so, _so_ sorry for what has been done to you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me most. But I'm here now. I'm sure we can turn you back.”

Lydia lifted one elegant shoulder. “But what if I don't _want_ to go back? I'm who I always wanted to be,” she said. “I'm _you_.”

Allison flinched. “How dare you -” she began in a furious whisper, but Lydia cut her off.

“How dare _I_?” Lydia asked, sweeping around to face her. “No, Allison, how dare _you_. I may no longer be the girl I was, but I remember how she always felt, watching you sweep through rooms like you owned them. Interfering in peoples' lives the same way.”

“I would never-”

“You _did._ You know, I was always envious of your strength,” she continued in a conversational tone. “I suppose now I know what monstrosities lie beneath.”

In a move that surprised both of them, Allison stepped forward, and in the same movement, punched Lydia full in the mouth. Lydia spat blood.

“You want to fight with fists?” she asked softly. “Not words? Alright, Allison, have it your way. Like _always.”_

Allison was absolutely, completely, one hundred per cent _done_ with hearing this monster bait her with her closest friend's voice. Before Lydia could attack, she pulled her knife from her belt, reversed it, and bashed Lydia on the head with the hilt. She dropped like a stone.

Allison stepped towards Lydia's fallen body, but stopped as she heard footsteps behind her. Laura. It had to be.

“Go away, Laura,” she said firmly. “I'm going to take her away from you monsters. I'm going to make her human again.”

Laura laughed. “You think you have that power, little girl?”

Allison balled up her fists, spun around. “You have no _idea_ what I can do!”

“No, I think I do. Trained by your parents to be a good little warrior, with no idea what they were training you for. Isn't that right?”

Allison was silent.

“And now you've found out, now you know _all_ the secrets they hid from you.” Laura mocked. As she talked, she prowled past Allison, who kept turning to keep her in view. “What a grown up little Argent you are!”

“I'll hurt you,” Allison whispered. “I can do it. And I _will_. For manipulating me. For hurting my friend, you _monster_! First I'll get her free, then I'll come back for you.”

“You can certainly _try_ ,” Laura said easily. “But tell me this: how are you going to get to her?”

Too late, Allison realised that she had let Laura get between her and Lydia. The vampire crouched in front of the prone form of Lydia and hissed. Allison was terrified, but swallowed it down. She couldn't allow these monsters to take Lydia away from her forever.

She stepped forward, bringing her knife up, attempting to be threatening.

“Laura Hale,” Allison said, willing her voice not to shake. “Step away from my friend, or die.”

Laura laughed, an inhuman, shrieking sound. “You could not hope to hurt me,” she said. “Not if you had every vampire hunter in the world at your back!”

Allison knew that wasn't true, but she also knew that alone she stood no chance.

“I'm not afraid of you,” she said.

“You should be."

Laura opened her mouth wide – too wide – and a full set of razor-sharp teeth descended. She leaped at Allison, who held her knife out in the desperate hope that maybe she could take Laura with her.

A blur of motion flew past her, and into Laura, flinging the other woman back and into a wall with a sickening crunch. Laura slid down the wall into a motionless heap.

Erica stepped away from the body, turned, and gave Allison a wide, toothy grin.

“So _this_ is where you girls ran off to,” she said, as though Allison and Lydia had just wandered off for an innocent walk, and Allison hadn't just been embroiled in a fight to the death.

“You -” Allison began, and then wasn't sure how to finish her sentence.

“I saved you, yes,” Erica said, a little impatient. “It wouldn't kill you to say thank you, you know.”

“Thank you,” repeated Allison, still stunned. “I – I don't. I don't understand why you did that?”

“Like I said before,” Erica said. “You're quite tasty for a human.” She winked.

“That cannot be the only reason you had to attack your own cousin.”

“Cousin-? Oh, Allison, Laura and I aren't cousins. She's my _maker_.”

“What?”

“She turned me into this beast,” Erica explained. “A very long time ago. Immortality is fun when you begin, Allison, but after countless years have passed, it stops tasting quite so sweet. Your maker never stops being the center of your world, but you do start to resent them.”

“The first day I was here,” Allison recalled slowly. “You said you never want what the Hales want. Did you mean _all_ of them, or just Laura?”

“These days, Laura pretty much _is_ all the Hales. Cora is somewhere in this house sulking, if Kate hasn't dealt with her yet, and Derek is...” Erica shrugged. “I get the feeling that Kate met up with him before she came here. I doubt he walked away from that encounter.”

“And you don't care at all?”

“Of course I _care_ , Allison, I _have_ _to_! That's the whole problem!”

“You want to be free.”

Erica sighed, and wrapped her arms around herself. From anyone else, it would be an emotionally vulnerable gesture. From Erica...Allison wasn't sure that vampires _could_ be vulnerable, at least not emotionally. Did they even _have_ emotions? There was so much she didn't know, and Erica was turning every legend she'd ever heard on its head.

Allison stepped towards her, and Erica's head snapped up.

“What are you doing?”

“I have to go,” Allison said. “And I have to take Lydia with me. She's new, there has to be a a way to reverse what's been done to her.”

Erica shrugged. “Maybe there is,” she said, “but I have never heard of such a thing.”

Allison took another step. Erica backed up one. “I saved your life,” she reminded Allison warily. “I'm _good_.”

“Kate would say there is no such thing as a good vampire,” Allison said. She didn't need to be told some things.

“You don't have to listen to her,” Erica said.

“I'm not,” Allison admitted. “I'm making my own choices.”

She closed the distance between them. Slipped her arms around Erica's neck, and leaned in. For the first time, Erica was the one who didn't know what she was doing. She stood motionless as Allison kissed her softly, sweetly, on the mouth. A farewell kiss.

“I have to go,” she said. “But I don't have to kill you. You won't hurt me.”

Erica ducked her head, but Allison had seen the smile curl at her lips. Not the smirk Allison had come to be familiar with, but a genuine smile. “I will never hurt you,” she said.

Allison heard footsteps; they were steady and calm, and getting closer. “Kate,” Allison realised, stepping back and turning away. “She's finished with Cora, she's coming to find me. You need to hide.”

When she turned back, Erica was already gone.

A bloodied Kate turned the corner, knives in both hands. “Time to leave, Allison,” she said. “Come along.”

“We're taking Lydia,” Allison protested. “She can be fixed, I know it!”

Kate sighed. “The things I do for family,” she said.

Allison wasn't sure how serious she was, and decided the better part of valour would be to not ask. She sidestepped the prone vampire on the ground, and picked Lydia up. Her friend was surprisingly heavy, considering the days she'd spent being spoon-fed broth and sleeping.

“You go to the carriage,” Kate said, eyeing Laura. She was beginning to stir. “I'll deal with this one.”

Allison nodded, and began the trek back to the front door. It was difficult enough to remember the way when she didn't have to haul Lydia through the halls. Eventually, though, they reached the entrance of the manor, and once they were outside, Allison was able to put Lydia down with a sigh of relief.

Long minutes of waiting later, Kate appeared at the front door. Her dress was in tatters, and she was bleeding heavily from a scratch over one eye.

“I'm fine,” she said, staving off Allison's immediate attempt to look after her. “That hellbeast just took some time to put down, that's all. She got in some lucky hits, but I got the last laugh.”

Allison wasn't sure what she meant, but then she saw the blaze behind the ground floor windows.

“You set it on fire?”

Kate began to laugh, then winced, putting a hand on her ribs. Apparently, Laura had gotten in more than a few hits.

“My beating might have just put the bastards to sleep,” she said, as the flames licked higher. “But they won't like what they wake up to. Come, it's time we went home.”

Kate hauled Lydia up, and flung her carelessly over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She ushered Allison into the carriage parked dangerously close to the front garden. Allison supposed that didn't matter any more.

She climbed into the plush interior, helping Kate arrange Lydia on the seat next to her. Hopefully, free of the Hales' deadly influence, she would begin to regain her lost humanity. Allison wanted to put an arm around her friend, draw her close in a warm embrace, but she couldn't. Too much had happened. After the fight, she wasn't sure she and Lydia could ever be that close again.

Instead, she rested her head against the cold glass, closing her eyes in weariness. She wanted to sleep. She could hear the flames building outside, and it was almost calming enough to let her drift off.

A noise from outside made her open her eyes again, however. Kate fighting with the horses. They were terrified to be so close to a fire, unwilling to accept her direction. But finally they calmed enough to understand what she wanted, and with a crack of the whip they sped off down the hill, away from the Hale Manor.

Allison kept her gaze on the burning house. She wanted to see the place destroyed with her own eyes. She knew, already, that she would never stop having nightmares of the past week. She wanted to be able to remember this sight when she woke.

Then – in the distance. In the darkness. A figure crawled away from the house. Stood, and fled into the trees.

Allison would have screamed, would have alerted Kate, but the figure had a shock of blonde hair. So instead, for the first time in days, Allison Argent smiled.


End file.
